EDWARD STILLINGFLEET. upon the minds of men, whereby they are naturally carried to approve some things as good and fit, and to dislike other things, as having a native evil and de- EDWARD STILLINGFLEET (1635-1699) distinformity in them. And this I call a natural instinct, guished himself in early life by his writings in because it does not seem to proceed so much from the defence of the doctrines of the church. The title of exercise of our reason, as from a natural propension his principal work is Origines Sacræ; or a Rational and inclination, like those instincts which are in Account of the Grounds of Natural and Revealed brute creatures, of natural affection and care toward Religion. His abilities and extensive learning caused their young ones. And that these inclinations are him to be raised in 1689 to the dignity of bishop of precedent to all reason and discourse about them, evi- Worcester. Towards the end of his life, he published dently appears by this, that they do put forth them- A Defence of the Doctrine of the Trinity, in which selves every whit as vigorously in young persons as in some passages in Locke's Essay on the Human those of riper reason; in the rude and ignorant sort of Understanding were attacked as subversive of funpeople, as in those who are more polished and re- damental doctrines of Christianity; but in the confined. For we see plainly that the young and igno- troversy which ensued, the philosopher was generant have as strong impressions of piety and devotion, rally held to have come off victorious. So great as true a sense of gratitude, and justice, and pity, as was the bishop's chagrin at this result, that it was the wiser and more knowing part of mankind. A thought to have hastened his death. The promiplain indication, that the reason of mankind is pre-nent matters of discussion in this controversy were vented by a kind of natural instinct and anticipation concerning the good or evil, the comeliness or deformity, of these things. And though this do not equally extend to all the instances of our duty, yet as to the great lines and essential parts of it, mankind hardly need to consult any other oracle than the mere propensions and inclinations of their nature; as, whether we ought to reverence the divine nature, to be grateful to those who have conferred benefits upon us, to speak the truth, to be faithful to our promise, to restore that which is committed to us in trust, to pity and relieve those that are in misery, and in all things to do to others as we would have them do to us. [Spiritual Pride.] Nothing is more common, and more to be pitied, than to see with what a confident contempt and scornful pity some ill-instructed and ignorant people will lament the blindness and ignorance of those who have a thousand times more true knowledge and skill than themselves, not only in all other things, but even in the practice as well as knowledge of the Christian religion; believing those who do not relish their affected phrases and uncouth forms of speech to be ignorant of the mystery of the gospel, and utter strangers to the life and power of godliness. [Education] Such ways of education as are prudently fitted to the particular disposition of children, are like wind and tide together, which will make the work go on amain: but those ways which are applied cross to nature are like wind against tide, which will make stir and conflict, but a very slow progress. a The principles of religion and virtue must be instilled and dropped into them by such degrees, and in such a measure, as they are capable of receiving them: for children are narrow-mouthed vessels, and a great deal cannot be poured into them at once. Young years are tender, and easily wrought upon, apt to be moulded into any fashion: they are like moist and soft clay, which is pliable to any form; but soon grows hard, and then nothing is to be made of it. Great severities do often work an effect quite contrary to that which was intended; and many times those who were bred up in a very severe school hate learning ever after for the sake of the cruelty that was used to force it upon them. So likewise an endeavour to bring children to piety and goodness by unreasonable strictness and rigour, does often beget in them a lasting disgust and prejudice against religion, and teacheth them to hate virtue, at the same time that they teach them to know it. the resurrection of the body and the immateriality of the soul. On these points Locke argued, that although the resurrection of the dead is revealed in Scripture, the re-animation of the identical bodies which inhabited this world is not revealed; and that even if the soul were proved to be material, this would not imply its mortality, since an Omnipotent Creator may, if he pleases, impart the faculty of thinking to matter as well as to spirit. The disputation was carried on by Locke with much more gentleness and good temper than by Stillingfleet, who displayed considerable captiousness and asperity towards his opponent. Fifty of Stillingfleet's sermons, published after his death, deservedly bear a high character for good sense, sound morality, energy of style, and the knowledge of human nature which they display. Extracts from two of them are subjoined. [True Wisdom.] That is the truest wisdom of a man which doth most conduce to the happiness of life. For wisdom as it refers to action, lies in the proposal of a right end, and the choice of the most proper means to attain it: which end doth not refer to any one part of a man's life, but to the whole as taken together. He therefore only deserves the name of a wise man, not that considers how to be rich and great when he is poor and mean, nor how to be well when he is sick, nor how to escape a present danger, nor how to compass a particular design; but he that considers the whole course of his life together, and what is fit for him to make the end of it, and by what means he may best enjoy the happiness of it. I confess it is one great part of wise man never to propose to himself too much happiness here; for whoever doth so is sure to find himself deceived, and consequently is so much more miserable as he fails in his greatest expectations. But since God did not make men on purpose to be miserable, since there is a great difference as to men's conditions, since that difference depends very much on their own choice, there is a great deal of reason to Place true wisdom in the choice of those things which tend most to the comfort and happiness of life. a That which gives a man the greatest satisfaction in what he doth, and either prevents, or lessens, or makes him more easily bear the troubles of life, doth the most conduce to the happiness of it. It was a bold saying of Epicurus, That it is more desirable to be miserable by acting according to reason, than to be happy in going against it; and I cannot tell how it can well agree with his notion of felicity: but it is a certain truth, that in the consideration of happiness, the satisfaction of a man's own mind doth weigh down The word prevented is here used in the obsolete sense of all the external accidents of life. For, suppose a man anticipated.-Ed. to have riches and honours as great as Ahasuerus bestowed on his highest favourite Haman, yet by his walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and sad instance we find that a small discontent, when the speaketh the truth in his heart,' as the Psalmist demind suffers it to increase and to spread its venom, scribeth the practice of integrity, may possibly meet doth so weaken the power of reason, disorder the pas- with such as will be ready to condemn him for hyposions, make a man's life so uneasy to him, as to pre- crisy at first; but when they find he keeps to a certain cipitate him from the height of his fortune into the rule, and pursues honest designs, without any great depth of ruin. But on the other side, if we suppose a regard to the opinion which others entertain concernman to be always pleased with his condition, to enjoy ing him, then all that know him cannot but esteem an even and quiet mind in every state, being neither and value him; his friends love him, and his enemies lifted up with prosperity nor cast down with adversity, stand in awe of him. The path of the just,' saith he is really happy in comparison with the other. It the wise man, is as the shining light which shineth is a mere speculation to discourse of any complete more and more unto the perfect day.' As the day happiness in this world; but that which doth either begins with obscurity and a great mixture of darkness, lessen the number, or abate the weight, or take off the till by quick and silent motions the light overcomes malignity of the troubles of life, doth contribute very the mists and vapours of the night, and not only much to that degree of happiness which may be ex-spreads its beams upon the tops of the mountains, but pected here. darts them into the deepest and most shady valleys; thus simplicity and integrity may at first appearing look dark and suspicious, till by degrees it breaks through the clouds of envy and detraction, and then shines with a greater glory. The integrity and simplicity of a man's mind doth all this. In the first place, it gives the greatest satisfaction to a man's own mind. For although it be impossible for a man not to be liable to error and mistake, yet, if he doth mistake with an innocent mind, he hath the comfort of his innocency when he thinks himself bound to correct his error. But if a man prevaricates with himself, and acts against the sense of his own mind, though his conscience did not judge aright at that time, yet the goodness of the bare act, with respect to the rule, will not prevent the sting that follows the want of inward integrity in doing it. The backslider in heart,' saith Solomon, shall be filled with his own ways, but a good man shall be satisfied from himself." The doing just and worthy and generous things without any sinister ends and like that of a constant health, which is better felt designs, leaves a most agreeable pleasure to the mind, than expressed. When a man applies his mind to the knowledge of his duty, and when he doth understand it (as it is not hard for an honest mind to do, for, as the oracle answered the servant who desired to know how he might please his master, 'If you will seek it, you will be sure to find it'), sets himself with a firm resolution to pursue it; though the rain falls, and the floods arise, and the winds blow on every side of him, yet he enjoys peace and quiet within, notwithstanding all the noise and blustering abroad; and is sure to hold out after all, because he is founded upon a rock. But take one that endeavours to blind or corrupt or master his conscience, to make it serve some mean end or design; what uneasy reflections hath he upon himself, what perplexing thoughts, what tormenting fears, what suspicions and jealousies do disturb his imagination and rack his mind! What art and pains doth such a one take to be believed honest and sincere! and so much the more, because he doth not believe himself: he fears still he hath not given satisfaction enough, and by overdoing it, is the more suspected. * Secondly, because integrity doth more become a man, and doth really promote his interest in the world. It is the saying of Dio Chrysostom, a heathen orator, that simplicity and truth is a great and wise thing, but cunning and deceit is foolish and mean; for, saith he, observe the beasts: the more courage and spirit they have, the less art and subtilty they use; but the more timorous and ignoble they are, the more false and deceitful.' True wisdom and greatness of mind raises a man above the need of using little tricks and devices. Sincerity and honesty carries one through many diffi culties, which all the arts he can invent would never help him through. For nothing doth a man more real mischief in the world than to be suspected of too much craft; because every one stands upon his guard against him, and suspects plots and designs where there are none intended; insomuch that, though he speaks with all the sincerity that is possible, yet nothing he saith can be believed. * But he that [Immoderate Self-Love.] There is a love of ourselves which is founded in nature and reason, and is made the measure of our love to our neighbour; for we are to love our neighbour as ourselves; and if there were no due love of ourselves, there could be none of our neighbour. But this love of ourselves, which is so consistent with the love of our neighbour, can be no enemy to our peace: those who love their neighbours as themselves. But for none can live more quietly and peaceably than themselves and to their neighbours, filling them with there is a self-love which the Scripture condemns, because it makes men peevish and froward, uneasy to jealousies and suspicions of others with respect to themselves, making them apt to mistrust the intentions and designs of others towards them, and so produring ill-will towards them; and where that hath once got into men's hearts, there can be no long peace The bottom of all is, they have a wonderful value for with those they bear a secret grudge and ill-will to. themselves and those opinions, and notions, and parties, and factions they happen to be engaged in, and these they make the measure of their esteem and love of others. As far as they comply and suit with them, so far they love them, and no farther. If we ask, Cannot good men differ about some things, and yet be good still? Yes. Cannot such love one another notwithstanding such difference? No doubt they ought. Whence comes it, then, that a small difference in opinion is so apt to make a breach in affection? In plain truth it is, every one would be thought to be infallible, if for shame they durst to pretend to it; and they have so good an opinion of themselves, that they cannot bear such as do not submit to them. From hence arise quarrellings and dis- | putings, and ill language, not becoming men or Christians. But all this comes from their setting up themselves and their own notions and practices, which they would make a rule to the rest of the world; and if others have the same opinion of themselves, it is impossible but there must be everlasting clashings and disputings, and from thence falling into different parties and factions; which can never be prevented till they come to more reasonable opinions of themselves, and more charitable and kind towards others. DR WILLIAM SHERLOCK.* DR WILLIAM SHERLOCK, dean of St Paul's (16411707), acquired in his lifetime an extensive repu *This divine is sometimes confounded with his son Thomas Sherlock, successively bishop of Bangor and Salisbury in the reign of George II., and who published numerous sermons which are highly esteemed. tation, chiefly by his writings in controversial theo- [Longing after Immortality.] DR WILLIAM SHERLOCK. our other passions, desires, and appetites. What a strange creature has God made man, if he deceive him in the most fundamental and most universal principle of action; which makes his whole life nothing else but one continued cheat and imposture ! [Life not too Short.] Such a long life [as that of the antediluvians] is not reconcilable with the present state of the world. What the state of the world was before the flood, in what manner they lived, and how they employed their time, we cannot tell, for Moses has given no account of it; but taking the world as it is, and as we find it, I dare undertake to convince those men, who are most apt to complain of the shortness of life, that it would not be for the general happiness of mankind to have it much longer: for, 1st, The world is at present very unequally divided; some have a large share and portion of it, others have nothing but what they can earn by very hard labour, or extort from other men's charity by their restless importunities, or gain by more ungodly arts. Now, though the rich and prosperous, who have the world at command, and live in ease and pleasure, would be very well contented to spend some hundred years in this world, yet I should think fifty Let us now consider the force of this argument; or threescore years abundantly enough for slaves and how far these natural desires of immortality prove beggars; enough to spend in hunger and want, in a that we are by nature immortal. For [say the ob- jail and a prison. And those who are so foolish as jectors] is there anything in the world more extrava-not to think this enough, owe a great deal to the wisgant than some men's desires are; and is this an argument, that we shall have whatever we desire, because we fondly and passionately, and, it may be, very unreasonably desire it? And therefore, to explain the force of this argument, I shall observe two things; 1st, 2dly, The present state of this world requires a more That all natural passions and appetites are imme- quick succession. The world is pretty well peopled, diately implanted in our nature by God; and, 2dly, and is divided amongst its present inhabitants; and That all natural passions have their natural objects. but very few, in comparison, as I observed before, have As for the first, it is certain, as I have already shown any considerable share in the division. Now, let us but at large, that our passions and appetites are the life suppose that all our ancestors, who lived a hundred and sense of the soul, without which it would be dead or two hundred years ago, were alive still, and posand stupid, without any principle of vital sensa-sessed their old estates and honours, what had become tion. For what is life without fear, and love, and hope, and desire, and such like passions, whereby we feel all things else, and feel ourselves? Now, whatever fancies men may have about our notions and ideas, that they may come into our minds from without, and be formed by external impressions, yet no man will be so absurd as to say, that external objects can put a principle of life into us; and then they can create no new passions in us, which are essential to our natures, and must be the work of that God who made us. And therefore, secondly, every natural desire must have its natural object to answer that desire, or else the desire was made in vain; which is a reproach to our wise Maker, if he have laid a necessity on us of desiring that which is not in nature, and therefore cannot be had. We may as well suppose that God has made eyes without light, or ears without sounds, as that he has implanted any desires in us which he hath made nothing to answer. There is no one example can be given of this in any kind whatsoever; for should any man be so extravagant as to desire to fly in the air, to walk upon the sea, and the like, you would not call these the desires of nature, because our natures are not fitted for them; but all the desires which are founded in nature have their natural objects. And can we then think, that the most natural and most necessary desire of all has nothing to answer it that nature should teach us above all things to desire immortality, which is not to be had especially when it is the most noble and generous desire of human nature, that which most of all becomes a reasonable creature to desire; nay, that which is the governing principle of all our actions, and must give laws to all dom and goodness of God that he does. So that the greatest part of mankind have great reason to be contented with the shortness of life, because they have no temptation to wish it longer. of this present generation of men, who have now taken their places, and make as great a show and bustle in the world as they did! And if you look back three, or four, or five hundred years, the case is still so much the worse; the world would be over-peopled; and where there is one poor miserable man now, there must have been five hundred; or the world must have been common, and all men reduced to the same level; which, I believe, the rich and happy people, who are so fond of long life, would not like very well. This would utterly undo our young prodigal heirs, were their hopes of succession three or four hundred years off, who, as short as life is now, think their fathers make very little haste to their graves. This would spoil their trade of spending their estates before they have them, and make them live a dull sober life, whether they would or no; and such a life, I know, they don't think worth having. And therefore, I hope at least they will not make the shortness of their fathers' lives an argument against providence; and yet such kind of sparks as these are commonly the wits that set up for atheism, and, when it is put into their heads, quarrel with everything which they fondly conceive will weaken the belief of a God and a providence, and, among other things, with the shortness of life; which they have little reason to do, when they so often outlive their estates. 3dly. The world is very bad as it is; so bad, that good men scarce know how to spend fifty or threescore years in it; but consider how bad it would probably be, were the life of man extended to six, seven, or eight hundred years. If so near a prospect of the other world, as forty or fifty years, cannot restrain men from the greatest villanies, what would they do if they could as reasonably suppose death to be three or four hundred years off? If inen make such improvements in wickedness in twenty or thirty years, what would they do in hundreds? And what a blessed place then would this world be to live in! We see in the old world, when the life of men was drawn out to so great a length, the wickedness of mankind grew so insufferable, that it repented God he had made man; and he resolved to destroy that whole generation, excepting Noah and his family. And the most probable account that can be given how they came to grow so universally wicked, is the long and prosperous lives of such wicked men, who by degrees corrupted others, and they others, till there was but one righteous family left, and no other remedy left but to destroy them all; leaving only that righteous family as the seed and future hopes of the new world. And when God had determined in himself, and promised to Noah never to destroy the world again by such an universal destruction, till the last and final judgment, it was necessary by degrees to shorten the lives of men, which was the most effectual means to make them more governable, and to remove bad examples out of the world, which would hinder the spreading of the infection, and people and reform the world again by new examples of piety and virtue. For when there are such quick successions of men, there are few ages but have some great and brave examples, which give a new and better spirit to the world. [Advantages of our Ignorance of the Time of Death.] For a conclusion of this argument, I shall briefly vindicate the wisdom and goodness of God, in concealing from us the time of our death. This we are very apt to complain of, that our lives are so very uncertain, that we know not to-day but that we may die to-morrow; and we would be mighty glad to meet with any one who would certainly inform us in this matter, how long we are to live. But if we think a little better of it, we shall be of another mind. For, 1st. Though I presume many of you would be glad to know that you shall certainly live twenty, or thirty, or forty years longer, yet would it be any comfort to know that you must die to-morrow, or some few months, or a year or two hence? which may be your case for ought you know; and this, I believe, you are not very desirous to know; for how would this chill your blood and spirits! How would it overcast all the pleasures and comforts of life! You would spend your days like men under the sentence of death, while the execution is suspended. Did all men, who must die young, certainly know it, it would destroy the industry and improvements of half mankind, which would half destroy the world, or be an insupportable mischief to human societies; for what man, who knows that he must die at twenty, or five-and-twenty, a little sooner or later, would trouble himself with ingenious or gainful arts, or concern himself any more with this world, than just to live so long in it? And yet, how necessary is the service of such men in the world! What great things do they many times do! and what great improvements do they make! How pleasant and diverting is their conversation, while it is innocent! How do they enjoy themselves, and give life and spirit to the graver age! How thin would our schools, our shops, our universities, and all places of education be, did they know how little time many of them were to live in the world! For would such men concern themselves to learn the arts of living, who must die as soon as they have learnt them? Would any father be at a great expense in educating his child, only that he might die with a little Latin and Greek, logic and philosophy? No; half the world must be divided into cloisters and nunneries, and nurseries for the grave. Well, you'll say, suppose that; and is not this an advantage above all the inconveniences you can think of, to secure the salvation of so many thousands who are now eternally ruined by youthful lusts and vani. ties, but would spend their days in piety and derotion, and make the next world their only care, if they knew how little while they were to live here? Right: I grant this might be a good way to correct the heat and extravagances of youth, and so it would be to show them heaven and hell; but God does not think fit to do either, because it offers too much force and violence to men's minds; it is no trial of their virtue, of their reverence for God, of their conquests and victory over this world by the power of faith, but makes religion a matter of necessity, not of choice: now, God will force and drive no man to heaven; the gospel dispensation is the trial and discipline of ingenuous spirits; and if the certain hopes and fears of another world, and the uncertainty of our living here, will not conquer these flattering temptations, and make men seriously religious, as those who must certainly die, and go into another world, and they know not how soon, God will not try whether the certain knowledge of the time of their death will make them religious. That they may die young, and that thousands do so, is reason enough to engage young men to expect death, and prepare for it; if they will venture, they must take their chance, and not say they had no warning of dying young, if they eternally miscarry by their wilful delays. And besides this, God expects our youthful service and obedience, though we were to live on till old age; that we may die young, is not the proper, much less the only reason, why we should remember our Creator in the days of our youth,' but because God has a right to our youthful strength and vigour; and if this will not oblige us to an early piety, we must not expect that God will set death in our view, to fright and terrify us: as if the only design God had in requiring our obedience was, not that we might live like reasonable creatures, to the glory of their Maker and Redeemer, but that we might repent of our sins time enough to escape hell. God is so merciful as to ac cept of returning prodigals, but does not think fit to encourage us in sin, by giving us notice when we shall die, and when it is time to think of repentance. 2dly. Though I doubt not but that it would be a great pleasure to you to know that you should live till old age, yet consider a little with yourselves, and then tell me, whether you yourselves can judge it wise and fitting for God to let you know this? I observed to you before, what danger there is in flattering ourselves with the hopes of long life; that it is apt to make us too fond of this world, when we expect to live so long in it; that it weakens the hopes and fears of the next world, by removing it at too great a distance from us; that it encourages men to live in sin, because they have time enough before them to indulge their lusts, and to repent of their sins, and make their peace with God before they die; and if the uncertain hopes of this undoes so many men, what would the certain knowledge of it do? Those who are too wise and considerate to be imposed on by such uncertain hopes, might be conquered by the certain knowledge of a long life. DR ROBERT SOUTH. DR ROBERT SOUTH, reputed as the wittiest of English divines, and a man of powerful though some what irregular talents, was born at Hackney in 1633, being the son of a London merchant. Having passed through a brilliant career of scholarship at Oxford, until he was elected public orator of the university, he had an opportunity of attracting the notice of the Earl of Clarendon, when that nobleman was made chancellor, and by him obtained a succession the divine right of sovereigns. In a sermon preached in Westminster Abbey in 1675, on the Peculiar Care and Concern of Providence for the Protection and Defence of Kings, he ascribes the absolute subjection' which men yield to royalty to a secret work of the divine power, investing sovereign princes with certain marks and rays of that divine image which overawes and controls the spirits of men, they know not how or why. And yet they feel themselves actually wrought upon and kept under by them, and that very frequently against their will. And this is that property which in kings we call majesty.' The positions maintained in this sermon, as summed up at its close, are to the following effect:-Kings are endowed with more than ordinary sagacity and quickness of understanding; they have a singular courage and presence of mind in cases of difficulty; the hearts of men are wonderfully inclined to them; an awe and dread of their persons and authority is imprinted on their people; and, lastly, their hearts are disposed to virtuous courses. Of the old royalists, he speaks thus:-'I look upon the old church of England royalists (which I take to be only another name for a man who prefers his conscience before his interest) to be the best Christians and the most meritorious subjects in the world; as having passed all those terrible tests and trials which conquering domineering malice could put them to, and carried their credit and their conscience clear and triumphant through and above them all, constantly firm and immovable by all that they felt, either from their professed enemies, or their false friends.' And in a sermon preached before Charles II., he speaks of his majesty's father as a blessed saint, the justness of whose government left his subjects at a loss for an occasion to rebel; a father to his country, if but for this only, that he was the father of such a son! During the encroachments upon the church by government in the reign of James II., the loyalty of South caused him to hold his peace, and to use no other weapons but prayers and tears for the recovery of his sovereign from the wicked and unadvised counsels wherewith he was entangled.' But when its reputation was attacked by persons uninvested with marks and rays of the divine image,' he spared neither argument nor invective. following sample of his violent declamation will illustrate this remark: The May the great, the just, and the eternal God, judge between the church of England and those men who have charged it with Popery; who have called the nearest and truest copy of primitive Christianity, superstition; and the most detestable instances of schism and sacrilege, reformation; and, in a word, done all that they could, both from the pulpit and press, to divide, shake, and confound the purest and most apostolically reformed church in the Christian world and all this, by the venomous gibberish of a few paltry phrases instilled into the minds of the furious, whimsical, ungoverned multitude, who have ears to hear, without either heads or hearts to understand. For I tell you again, that it was the treacherous cant and misapplication of those words-popery, superstition, reformation, tender conscience, persecution, moderation, and the like, as they have been used by a pack of designing hypocrites (who believed not one word of what they said, and laughed within themselves at those who did), that put this poor church into such a flame heretofore, as burnt it down to the ground, and will infallibly do the same to it again, if the providence of God and the prudence of man does not timely interpose between her and the villanous arts of such incendiaries. Against the Independents and Presbyterians, South was in the habit of pouring forth unbounded ridicule. He cordially hated these and all other sectaries, and resolutely opposed even the slightest concessions to them on the part of the church, with the |